Honor's Mistress
by lannerz
Summary: AU Catelyn treats with Stannis Baratheon instead of Renly, but old wounds are opened up and their long-forgotten past comes to haunt them once again.
1. The Spoils of War

**Author's Notes:** So I started to do ASOIAF fanfic requests on tumblr, which means that in the past few weeks, I've written a lot of one-shot fanfics. This was one of them, but it's actually turned into a small series of fics. And they all go back in time. What I mean is that it starts out in present day, then the next chapter will be from the past, and so forth. It just sort of happened like that because I enjoyed writing this weird pairing.

**Disclaimer: **Like I own these characters. If that were the case, everyone would be sleeping with everyone. GRRM owns them and everyone dies instead.

**Honor's Mistress**  
_The Spoils of War_

Catelyn Stark had not thought to be here.

She had explained to Robb, very carefully, that they needed to make an alliance with the Baratheon king. He had been hesitant at first, especially when it came to his own mother going to treat with the king, but she had been adamant that she would be the one to go. Robb had tried to send her back to Winterfell, but she'd told him that under no circumstances would she do that. Not until the war was won would her children ever be safe again. She had to do this for Bran, for Rickon, for Sansa, for Arya, for Winterfell and the North.

Still, none of that could really explain how she'd found herself in Stannis Baratheon's tent.

Catelyn wandered around the tent, her gaze crossing everything. The tent was sparsely decorated. This king either did not plan on staying here long or he simply wasn't the decorative type. Wylis Manderly stood a few feet away, looking forlornly at the food that had been brought in a few minutes before, but she paid him no mind. She'd told him that he could return to the camp they'd set up, so that he could eat and sleep, but he'd refused to leave her. Apparently Robb had told him not to leave her under any circumstances.

She nudged the war pieces around on the table, sailing a ship across the Narrow Sea before returning it to its place on the map. Her eyes stayed on the map, and she trailed her fingertips from Storm's End, across the Westerlands where Robb was, down the Trident, and back to Winterfell in the North. She missed her boys greatly, more than anyone could know, but she had to stay strong. She had to do this for the girls and boys. No one knew what lengths she would go to for her family. They all thought her weak because she was a woman, but she was stronger than any of them knew.

"Lady Stark, this is a much unexpected visit."

When Catelyn turned around, Stannis Baratheon was standing in the opening of the tent. The flames flickered in his dark blue eyes that looked over her carefully. Behind him was a red woman that she did not know, but who seemed to be gazing at her so deeply that Catelyn felt nearly naked. Catelyn bowed as Stannis stepped completely into the tent. "My lord."

"Your Grace, you surely mean?" The woman's accent was strange and foreign, but like velvet. She was clearly from across the Narrow Sea, but Catelyn could not be sure where. She'd only met a few people from outside of Westeros and the exchanges hadn't been long.

Catelyn smiled, somewhat dryly. "Yes, I meant 'Your Grace,'" she replied politely. "It only seems so strange having to call so many men 'Your Grace' these days."

"Your son is an usurper," Stannis grumbled.

"As was your brother Robert and apparently Renly as well."

Stannis and Catelyn stared at one another. She was no fool. Stannis was the rightful heir to the throne. It was the reason she had told Robb that they had to treat with him. Renly had the men and was more popular, but he was arrogant and reckless. He'd spent more time hosting feasts and tournaments than actually battling anyone. Stannis, on the other hand, was a proven commander and had experience in war. He'd held Storm's End with the wrath of Highgarden beating at his doors when Renly had just been a child. That was the man Robb needed on his side. He needed a knight and commander, not a politician and brownnoser.

"Leave us," Stannis commanded.

The red woman seemed displeased by this, but she did not argue with him. She turned her gaze from Stannis to Catelyn, her eyes seemingly burning red into Catelyn's light blue eyes. The threat didn't need to be said; it was loud enough for Catelyn to see. Still, she smiled pleasantly at the woman and nodded at her politely as she slipped out of the tent.

Wylis cleared his throat. "My lady?"

"You may return to your tent, Ser Manderly."

"But, my lady, Your Grace said–"

Her kind smile did not waver, even as she interrupted him: "_Your Grace_ just said to leave us."

Wylis looked uncomfortable with the situation, torn between his loyalty to King Robb, loyalty to Catelyn, and also deference to King Stannis, even as he nodded and left the tent. There was a king in every corner, she had said what felt like so long ago, and it made it difficult for men to know who to defer to. She had decided for them when they'd rode up and been accosted by the king's men: they were in Stannis' camp now and that meant Stannis' rules.

Once they were alone, Stannis brushed past her and walked to a table that had wine and glasses on it. "Would you like a glass of wine, Lady Catelyn? You must be tired."

Catelyn's smile turned slightly more humorous. "You are not used to treating ladies, Your Grace?"

"It is an…uncomfortable situation," Stannis said, turning around to face her. For the first time, he looked at her – truly looked at her, as if trying to size her up. Catelyn was not an intimidating woman. She was petite, proper, dressed in a blue gown fit more for the North than the Riverlands. But this was where she was from. She'd been to Storm's End before many of times. When her father had been trying to decide who his daughters would marry, Stannis Baratheon had been on the list on candidates, but her father had decided that he was more ambitious than that.

"It's been a long time." Catelyn sighed and sat down at the table. "How long as it been? Since your wedding?"

"No." Stannis turned away from her, looking at something that she couldn't see. "It was the last time Robert went to the North, after the Greyjoy Rebellion. I went with him. We were treated at Winterfell for three nights before we returned to King's Landing. Robert had insisted on a feast, but I think he wanted to plant his seed a few more times and to scare the boy."

The memory came back clearly to Catelyn. She had been much younger then. It had been nearly ten years since then. She had been twenty-five and Arya had just been born. She'd spent the year terrified that she would lose her husband to yet another war. Ned hadn't even been there for Arya's birth, though no one had ever told her that. When they had returned to Winterfell, Robert and many of his men had come with him, Stannis in tow. She remembered how moody he'd been and how he had done his best to stay away from the festivities whenever Robert was around. Robert had been in exceptionally good spirits, especially since his young queen wasn't with him. He would take turns between planting his lips on different serving girls and then booming something at a nine year-old Theon Greyjoy.

"I do not think you enjoyed yourself very much the last time I saw you," Catelyn finally said. He still wasn't looking at her. She had an inkling why. The Greyjoy Rebellion did not bring up good memories for Stannis. Many a good man had been lost in the war, especially during the Battle of Fair Isle, which Stannis himself had led. "It was your victory that helped seal the war. I always wondered why you were so…distraught during the feast."

"The end of war isn't a happy occasion, Lady Stark." He drummed his fingers on the table. "It isn't a time for celebration but a time for mourning the dead. Robert took too much glee in war."

"And you take none, I see."

Stannis turned around finally. He walked over and sat down in the chair across from her. It had been a very long time since she had seen him. Nine years, she surmised. Though he had grown older and his black hair thinner, lines forming around his piercing blue eyes, she could still see the young man he'd been. Even then, he had been stern and distant with most people.

"You were the only one that wasn't truly celebrating either," Stannis pointed out.

"I was just relieved for war to be over. I've never been privy to bloodshed. If it can be avoided, it should be."

When he turned his eyes to hers, Catelyn saw something in them she hadn't seen before – a shadow of something that she could not place, maybe a shadow of the boy he had once been, all those years ago. "You want me to make a treaty with your son when he is trying to take what is mine?"

"Robb does not want to Iron Throne."

"No, he only seeks half of the kingdom, a modest demand indeed." A strange smile quirked on Stannis' face, but it looked more like a grimace to her. Stannis did well in war, but he did not enjoy it like his brothers. This was no game to him, and it was no game to her. "You are an intelligent woman, Lady Catelyn; you always have been. You should know by now that I will not accept this offer. The Iron Throne is mine by rights. Even your honorable _Ned_ knew that much."

Catelyn hesitated for a moment. The way he had said her late husband's name, like it was dirty in his mouth, gave her pause. Slowly, she stood up from her seat and traipsed over to him, light on her feet. "Your Grace…" She didn't know what to say though. Stannis was steel and always had been. The first time she had seen him had been when she'd first gone to Storm's End to visit with her father; and even then, at ten, he had been serious and stubborn. "Stannis, please, he's my oldest son. He's only trying to avenge his father."

"Then avenge him, but the North is mine."

"You don't have the men alone – neither you nor Robb do – but combined, you can be victorious against the Lannisters and then, Renly will proclaim fealty to you."

"I will not bend the knee to a boy, Catelyn!" Stannis stood up, his body vibrating with fury, but Catelyn did not back down or step away from him. Instead, she stood her ground, glaring up at him, as he breathed heavily. For a moment, he looked ready to strike, say something he might regret, anything, but then he slammed his hand down on the table and turned away from her. "Get out. We will continue this discussion tomorrow."

Catelyn clenched her fists, but then relaxed them. "Your Grace–"

"I am done with you tonight, Lady Catelyn." He did not look back at her. He dare not. She'd seen him slip, only once, when he had been in Winterfell. That one time, he'd had too much wine. That one moment, he messed up, let someone in, and it had been the wrong person, the wrong woman, her. She held her tongue and started to walk away when she heard him say, "You are as beautiful as you were then, my lady, but I wonder if you will ever look truly happy."

She said nothing and left Stannis alone in his tent.


	2. The Price of Honor

**Author's Notes:** Like my Arya/Gendry fanfic, this was supposed to be a one-shot. It turned into something much more.

**Disclaimer: **GRRM owns all of these characters and also my soul.

**Honor's Mistress  
**_The Price of Honor_

The first day of festivities had been almost more than Catelyn could bear. All she wanted to do was curl up in bed with her husband that she hadn't seen for so long and continue living her life. She'd wanted everyone to leave Winterfell and let her be alone with her family, but the men kept pulling Ned into their groups, kept chugging their ale, and telling their tales. He'd look at her apologetically as he was dragged away, but she'd just smile at him. It wasn't his fault. Everyone was so happy and relieved that the Greyjoy Rebellion was over and won – except, of course, the hostage that had been brought to live with them.

The second day hadn't been so bad. After having a night spent with Ned and a morning filled with the children as well, she'd felt rested and capable of enjoying herself. She was able to laugh at the jokes and listen to the stories. It was all very captivating really, once you sat down and listened. King Robert was the loudest of them all, his voice and laughter booming through the great hall.

The children had become involved in the festivities as well. Five year-old Robb had been more than ecstatic to be allowed to sit at the table and listen to the men swap stories about a new scar they'd acquired or how they'd nearly escaped death. Three year-old Sansa had been more timid, clinging to her mother's skirts as an abundance of strange men came up and told her how pretty she was. Both Bran and Arya were far too young to even remember this day, much less be a part of it. Whenever he could, Ned would sneak away from the men to hold his newborn daughter, but would be dragged back into the ruckus quickly enough. Robb did his best to speak to ten year-old Theon Greyjoy, but the Iron Islander just looked at her young son like he was crazy and refused to speak.

On the third day, however, Catelyn had about lost her nerve. Three days of mad and wild celebrating was too much. She was only five and twenty and yet she felt too old for these frivolities. Her head pounded despite not having drank alcohol, which King Robert took to meaning that she needed to drink. When night had fallen and the festivities were far too gone to end, Ned had been once again taken away by the men. This time she knew it would take him longer to return. They wanted him to tell a story from the old war, Robert's War, and though he very rarely drank, Ned always drank a bit more when telling those stories. He was ashamed of it, she thought, and had only just started opening up to her about it a year before. He hated telling these sorts of stories – _wars aren't meant for songs,_ he'd say, even though they were all made into songs – but all the knights surrounding him would goad him into it.

Catelyn sat at the table alone, sighing to herself. None of the men had brought their wives with them, unless they were of the North and lived near. Lady Barbery Dustin had come to pay respects on the third day, having ridden into Winterfell that morning, but she had always been cold and distant with Catelyn. Ned told her it was because Lady Dustin had wanted to marry Brandon, but in the end, neither of them had married him. And so Catelyn spent her time alone for the most part, in the crowded room, fiddling with the food and sipping on her wine.

However, there was only so much one woman could take by herself.

After King Robert looked like he might actually start screwing one of the serving girls right on the table in front of everyone, Catelyn abruptly stood up and swept out of the room. All she wanted was peace, but even the end of the war couldn't give her that. When she stepped outside, she expected a gust of cold air and maybe snow, but she was hit with a warm breeze. She found it hard to remember that it was the second year of their summer. The North had always seemed cold to her at first, but though it would never be as warm as the South, it could get hot.

Brushing her red hair out of her face, Catelyn started to walk around aimlessly. She found herself close to the sept that Ned had had built for her when she noticed a shadow moving towards her. A gasp escaped her lips, and she jumped back, tripping over a rock and falling backwards.

"Cat–" Before she fell though, a hand reached out and grabbed her by the wrist, keeping her standing. The person stepped out of the shadows to reveal himself to be none other than Stannis Baratheon. For a moment, they stared at each other in silence. His eyes were foggier than she'd ever seen, and it suddenly hit her that he'd been drinking. Stannis Baratheon did not drink, at least not that she recalled, so something must have provoked him terribly.

_War,_ she thought_, war provokes all._

He seemed to realize that he was still holding onto her wrist and let go of her, his eyes dropping to the ground sheepishly. "I am sorry, my lady. I did not mean to-to disturb you," he muttered. She wondered how much alcohol he'd drank. Probably not much, but enough to make him unsteady and have trouble speaking. It was very unlike him and worried her even.

"It is quite alright, my lord." Catelyn touched him on the arm, making him look up at her, and smiled at him warmly. That seemed to only make him tense up even more though. "That's what I get for wandering around the castle alone at night."

"May I walk with you, my lady?" he asked politely. "A lady should not be on her own at this hour."

"Of course you may."

He held out his arm, which she took. Out of all of the Baratheons, Stannis was the only one that showed any sort of manners. Renly was only eleven and a wild child. She hadn't seen him since Stannis' marriage to Selyse Florent. The boy had been rambunctious and excited even then, nearly stopping the ceremony when he'd randomly become sick from eating so many sweets. No one needed to speak of King Robert's manners. He may have been her king and she would never say anything out of line about him, but the man drank and whored and swore and had stolen her home from her for the past three nights. He'd taken Ned from her twice.

Only Stannis was different. He'd always been courteous to her, always proper. A few times, he'd even shown her some sort of raw emotion when he kept it hidden from others. Having both grown up in the Riverlands, with her father lord of Riverrun and his father (and much too soon Robert) lord of Storm's End, she had met Stannis more than a few times while growing up. He'd always been much more serious than both his brothers, as if he'd absorbed all of the seriousness from him or they had taken all of the laughter and joking from their parents' blood.

Without warning, he made an awkward step and stumbled. He fell forward, taking Catelyn down with him. She let out a yelp and they tumbled into a pile of hay together. As he sputtered and tried to gain some sort of balance, Catelyn just laid back in the hay and laughed. It was all so ridiculous. Here was Stannis, normally so stuffy and formal that he was stiff as a board, drunk and clumsy, flailing around on the ground covered in hay.

"Why are you laughing?" Stannis demanded, exasperated and red-faced even in the moonlight, as he managed to pull himself to his feet. Even though he was glaring at her, only her laughter answered him. "What's so funny?"

Catelyn finally contained herself, pushing herself up into the sitting position. "I've never seen you drunk before."

An embarrassed look flashed across Stannis' face, making him look very young. He was of age with her, but he'd always been so serious that she thought he must have always acted like an adult. "I'm not drunk." He folded his arms across his chest and attempted to stand in front of her tall and proud, but he could not stop his body from wavering. He was drunk and didn't know how to handle it at all.

"Of course you're not, my lord." She bit her lip, trying to hold back the smile and laughter again. Stannis continued to look affronted by her accusations, but knew he could not hide the truth, not from her. "Would you be so kind as to help a lady to her feet? You were the one that dragged me to the ground."

Stannis almost looked like he might just turn on his heels and run, but after a minute, he took her hand and easily pulled her to her feet. He was strong, though he didn't look it. He was thinner than his older brother and Ned, but he had strength in him that few saw. It was subtle, like the wind that blew the sails of his ships, but she'd seen it when they had been children, even before he'd lost his parents to the sea that he still loved. She could tell that his black hair was already starting to thin, probably from the stress of having brothers like Robert and also having a king for a brother. It was his eyes that drew her attention the most: bright blue, like the sea on the coasts of Storm's End during the day, and even though they were cloudy with drunkenness, they were still piercing.

And they were locked onto hers.

"Do you ever think about that night?" he asked hoarsely, his throat raw from alcohol he wasn't used to.

Her entire body and face softened. "Sometimes, yes," she admitted quietly. He closed his eyes at her words and his entire body went limp, like he'd been holding it so tensely until he heard those words. "But it was years ago, Stannis, and we were children – and it was a mistake. We were fifteen and I was betrothed to Brandon Stark. You knew it was as well as I did that it would only bring trouble, so we swore to never bring it up again. _You're_ the one that said we should just pretend like it never happened."

"I know it was." When he opened his eyes, he lifted a hand to her face, but he didn't touch her. His fingers were inches away from her cheeks, but he held it back. She felt like she could barely breathe. "And I didn't speak of it, and I didn't think of it, for many years, but then…" His hand dropped to his side again. "I nearly died. The Battle of Fair Isle, they call it, but it wasn't fair… It wasn't… I realized I had no one that would truly grieve for me. The last time I remembered anyone ever caring for me remotely was you. And when I heard Ned speak of you, I could not help but think of when we were just kids. And when I saw you…"

"Stannis…"

"You're beautiful, Cat. You're so damn beautiful and still as smart as ever." For a moment, he looked sadder than she'd ever seen him, but then he hardened up again. He was always so hard. Even with her, he had been. When they had been kids, playing games, and she would tease him, he would just furrow his brow and shake his head. "If I'd been a firstborn son…"

"But you weren't, Stannis, and neither was Ned."Just saying his name seemed to make Stannis' frown deepen and the shame on his face grow. If Ned was the most honorable man in all of Westeros, then Stannis had to be second. She could practically see his mind warring against itself as he fought with his feelings, his thoughts, and his duty-bound responsibilities. "I'm sorry, Stannis; I truly am. When I was young, I used to think that maybe the betrothal would be dissolved. And after Brandon and when Robert rode to war and you would be the heir to Storm's End, I thought maybe…" She sighed. "But it wasn't to be. The gods struck it down, and for a reason, I have to think."

"The gods do nothing for reasons," Stannis ground out. "They do nothing at all. A man is killed by another man in battle, not by the gods. A man chose to marry his daughter to a lord that would gain the best political ground, not the gods, and a woman chose to follow because –"

"Because it was my duty!" Catelyn interrupted him, tears stinging her eyes. She was breathing heavily, her chest rising and falling, and she couldn't help but think her dress was so tight. She suddenly longed for the summer snows of the North; she felt like she was on fire or might need a cool bath. "What would you have had me done? Ride to you, run away with you, like-like–" But she could not besmirch the name that was never spoken in their home, and she just looked sadly at Stannis as he glowered at the ground. Taking a deep breath, she continued, "Would you have wanted me to dishonor myself for you?"

"No, of course not. It was your honor that…that drew me to you in the first place."

Catelyn rubbed her face, wishing that he would look at her and hoping that he wouldn't. "It's over, Stannis. It's been over for many long years, and whether you like it or not, you're the one that ended it. You did what was for the best." He wouldn't raise his eyes to her. She could tell that he was humiliated with the conversation, angry with himself, and disgruntled that he couldn't seem to control it. She doubted he'd drink for a very long time after tonight. "Are you not happy with your lady wife?"

Stannis refused to respond to her, not wanting to say anything bad against his wife, but his eyes darted to hers, and she knew the answer well enough. It saddened her greatly.

"Well I am happy with Ned. I love him, like I never thought I would." Catelyn knew the words hurt, but they had to be said. Nothing would ever come to this. If Stannis was like Robert, he might've tried to force himself onto her. If he was like Renly, he would've complained and grumbled until the bitter end. No, she knew that he would never speak of this again. He would never bring it up or try to push the subject on her. She knew that he would never talk to her about this. "And perhaps you will grow to love Selsye, and she will bear you many sons. I do hope you are happy one day. It does upset me that you are not. People always think you're so serious and you've never smiled a day in your life, but I know that's wrong. I saw it for myself, and I hope to see it again."

"Cat," he breathed.

All of a sudden, he was too close to her, much too close. His face was just inches from hers as he searched her eyes with his. She wanted to look away, push him away, but she couldn't. Instead, she stood her ground, just as he stood his. She could smell the alcohol on his breath, so foreign and strange coming from him, and a hint of dates, which he must've been eating while drinking. He'd eaten those a lot as a kid; they'd gone and picked some together a few times. Lines of sadness and frowning had already started to develop on his handsome face and the breeze blew through his thin black hair and clothes. He looked like he might kiss her, like he might forget all the courtesies and honor and their duty, and that made her nervous.

And then he took a step back, turned around, and walked away, his body completely rigid.

Catelyn finally breathed, but it hurt to do so. She watched his figure retreat into the shadows and then disappear into the castle. Ironically, she thought of how all their times together had ended with him walking away, as if he knew that was the best choice. He might not want to, but he always knew when it wasn't his place. He had been denied her and he had been denied Storm's End. What else could be possibly lose that he thought was supposed to be his?

When she returned to the great hall, the festivities were still going on. She connected eyes with Stannis across the room, but he immediately looked away and never looked back at her for the rest of the night. _We can talk this over in the morning and settle things, so they aren't awkward,_ she told herself as she sat down next to Ned.

But after Stannis left Winterfell the next morning, they never spoke to one another again.


	3. The Beauty of Shame

**Author's Notes:** Time to go back in time again! I had a lot of fun with this one, and I'm really glad that I continued this on my own after that request. I really love Catelyn and Stannis, so it was fun to play around with them.

**Disclaimer: **GRRM owns all of these characters and also my soul.

**Honor's Mistress  
**_The Beauty of Shame_

"I do not understand how someone can be so impossibly stupid," Stannis said as he leapt to another rock. While some might act clumsy, he was straight and sturdy. He'd played on these rocky shores for years when he was a child; and even though it had been over two years since he'd done this game, with Renly, he could still remember the route he preferred to take down to the shore. There were easier ways to get to the shore than traveling down the rocky hill, but it was a good game to play. Each person had to leap from rock to rock to get to the shore and the first person won. Stannis had always won, even beating Robert. He examined the jump in front of him, trying to determine his best maneuver, when Catelyn jumped onto the same rock as him. "We're supposed to be taking different paths."

"I am," she told him breathlessly, "but that doesn't mean I can't use the same rock as you. I don't see your name written on it anywhere." She swept her bangs out of her eyes, a grin on her face, and leapt down to a rock that he hadn't been going to choose. For a moment, he thought she was going to fall, as she balanced on one foot and wobbled in the air, but she caught her balance again before he even moved. She turned to face him. "Your brother just doesn't think with his head."

Stannis screwed up his face in distaste. "No, he prefers to think with his cock."

"Well, that's one way of saying it," Catelyn laughed as she examined her next move.

Lord Hoster Tully had come to Storm's End to speak with Robert about business, most likely to do with the band of bandits that were wrecking havoc through the Riverlands, although Robert had really been in no mood to deal with lordling things. His idea of dealing with the bandits involved going out there himself and picking a fight them them. He was supposed to go to the Vale soon and Storm's End would be left in the care of Stannis and Maester Cressen, but for now, Robert Baratheon was the lord of Storm's End. Catelyn Tully, Lord Hoster's daughter of five and ten, had come with him, as she always did when Lord Hoster travelled here. She was a dutiful daughter, helping her father out in any way he could. This time, her younger brother Edmure had come along too. He'd tried to come with them, but she had somehow convinced Edmure and Renly to play in the castle.

Stannis watched Catelyn carefully as she tried to determine her next move. Whenever she came to the castle with her father, she always sought him out once she was left to herself. Ever since they'd first met, when they'd been young children, they had been friends. Robert always teased him, saying he couldn't understand why a girl as pretty as her would want to spend time with a sorry sod like Stannis, but she did nonetheless and Stannis was secretly grateful for it. He always looked forward to the days when Lord Hoster came to visit, if only for Catelyn, and they would write to each other otherwise. It had been a year since he'd last seen her, and she had grown quite a bit since then. While nowhere near as tall as him, she had grown in…other ways, which Stannis had not been expecting at all. Of course she was always the proper lady and knew all her courtesies, but she longed to see the sea and she'd begged Stannis to take her this way.

"I just don't understand him," Stannis finally sighed. "He's betrothed to Lyanna Stark, whom he says he loves, and yet he still wants to bed every girl he can. He's even got a bastard, you know, already. How much can he love her if he's dishonoring her like that?"

"Not much, it seems."

The night before, when Lord Hoster and his party had first arrived, and they'd been standing to wait for his arrival, Robert had been talking about how he'd bed some village girl, a pretty little thing apparently, that had squirmed and giggled underneath him. Stannis didn't know why Robert loved going into so much detail, probably to make his younger brother uncomfortable, but he'd shut right up the moment he'd laid his eyes on Catelyn Tully.

"_Now there is a real woman,"_ he'd said, that typical hunger in his eyes. Lord of Storm's End, and he was still just a boy that relied on his cock too much. Stannis had reminded his brother that Catelyn was betrothed to Brandon Stark, Robert's best friend's older brother, and Robert had just rolled his eyes. He hadn't made any advances on Catelyn, but Stannis thought she looked somewhat uncomfortable whenever Robert was close to her. He'd held her hand for too long, gazed at her too inscrutably. It was enough to make Stannis grind his teeth. It had been a relief for both of them when Lord Hoster had pulled Robert aside and allowed her the freedom to roam the castle and lands while he was busy.

Catelyn grew very quiet, no longer looking at him. Stannis realized he'd made a mistake in talking about Robert's whoring ways. It was a sore subject for Catelyn. While she had been betrothed to Brandon for three years, there was no denying that Brandon was not nearly as honorable as she was. There were just as many rumors of Brandon bedding whores and young maidens as there were of Robert. Though they never talked about it and she told him that Brandon was always very courteous and sweet with her, romantic and passionate even, there were times when he could tell she was down about it. He knew she was worried. What was stopping him from being with other women once they were married if her honor meant next to nothing to him? Stannis thought it wrong – no man should dishonor his lady like that, especially one as lovely and smart and kind as Catelyn Tully – but he was a good four years younger than Brandon Stark and not stupid as Petyr Baelish had been.

As if feeling despondent from their talk, she made another risky jump that she probably wouldn't have made had she not been upset. The rock moved slightly underneath her, but she kept her ground. "You're going to get your dress dirty or hurt yourself if you're not careful," Stannis warned her. He jumped down to a large rock, listening as her laughter mixed with the crashing waves from below. "And then your father is going to wonder what we were getting up to, and I'm going to get in trouble."

"You're not going to get in trouble," Catelyn replied, practically scoffing. "I told him you were taking me to the shores, and so you are. Besides, my father knows you're an honorable man. If only Robert had half of yours, he might not be so stupid."

Stannis smiled to himself, leaping down to the rock right behind her. It was always nice when Catelyn said things like that. Oftentimes, people looked over him for Robert, who was formidable and loud, or they'd immediately look to Renly, who was young and sweet. No one favored the middle Baratheon brother, save for Catelyn. He was about to jump to the next rock when he realized that Catelyn had stopped and was staring out into the sea.

"It's beautiful," she whispered, her soft blue eyes locked onto the crashing waves. It looked like it was about the rain here, dark grey clouds hanging in the sky, lightening flashing in the distance. The water of the sea was a dark blue with white foam sprinkled in here and there in the waves as they lapped at the shoreline. Stannis loved the sea more than anything. Though it had taken his father and mother away from him at far too young of an age, it was still the only place that made sense to him truly. The sea was a dangerous and beautiful place that was to be admired. While people fought against one another and chose favorites, the sea discriminated against no one; it took who and what it wanted, no matter a person's race, gender, or birth.

Stannis gazed at her. "It is."

She looked over to him, a smile on her face again. "Last one to the sand has to saddle the horses for the rest of the week," she said excitedly, before she bounded to the next rock.

It caught Stannis off guard, and he just watched her for a second before he realized that he would be the one saddling the horses if he didn't hurry up. He shouted after her, "Watch your step!" before he leapt to the next rock hurriedly. She was only a few steps ahead of him, but being in a dress made it more difficult for her to jump and besides, he knew these rocks and lands better than she did. Where she had to stop and look around, he knew exactly which rock to jump to and which rock to avoid.

Catelyn did not. She glanced at him, realizing he was close to passing her up and they were only a few feet from the beach, and jumped to the next rock without thinking. This time, when the rock slid underneath her, she could not regain her balance. She let out a yelp as she toppled forward. On instinct, Stannis grabbed her wrist, but her fall had too much momentum and he'd jumped on too shaky of a rock so he could grab her for him to remain standing. He shouted too as they both fell to the sand. She landed first, and he managed to maneuver his body so that he didn't land on top of her, instead landing on his side painfully. They tumbled in the sand together until she was lying on her back and he was halfway on top of her.

For a moment, they just breathed, but then Catelyn started to laugh. "I win," she said in between breathless laughs. "I touched the sand first."

He furrowed his brow at her, trying to think of how she could just laugh when they could've been hurt. Neither of them was hurt badly, of course. His side hurt a bit, but she seemed relatively unharmed, which was all that really mattered to him.

But then she wasn't laughing anymore, and Stannis realized that he'd been staring at her. She was gazing up at him, searching his face, a strange look on her own. It was almost…scared, like she didn't know what was going on and it frightened her. Stannis' own heart started to race and his mind screamed for him to get to his feet. They had never been this physically close before though. While they were good friends, they had always remained a proper distance from one another. Both of them had understood that they had to be careful of how they appeared in public since they were the opposite sex and she was betrothed. But now there was no one around and it was just them. They'd been alone together before, when they were younger, but this…

This felt very different. It felt wrong, but it also felt very right.

A lump was lodged in his throat. "Catelyn…"

She was more than pretty though, as Robert had commented. Her light blue dress made her blue eyes stand out more. Normally her red hair was kept in a braid, but she'd worn it down and now it fanned her face, glittering with sand. She had a woman's body now, too, grown in areas he hadn't thought of before when they'd been children. When she took a breath, her chest would rise and graze his own. They'd hugged only a few times before, and now here they were, just a few inches apart.

And then his lips were on hers, and before he knew it, they were kissing greedily. Her lips were softer than he'd expected, molding to his, and pressing against his with just as much wanting as he had. Any thoughts about what was right or wrong or proper flew out of his mind in that moment. One hand still held her wrist, and his grip on it tightened. Her fingers raked through his hair and her other hand rested on his cheek. She tasted like the dates he'd given her before they'd decided to go to the sea. The air around them smelled like salt, but he could only smell the dates and the scent of lavender on her skin and in her hair.

He moved his body so that he was on top of her completely, her wiggling underneath him to allow him to move. His free hand seemed to have a mind of its own, traveling from her face, to her neck, down her shoulders, and to her side. His hand sat where her dress was tied, tugging at the strings. When that didn't seem to be enough, he kissed down her neck and his hand slid across her belly and up to the chest that was pressing against his. The dress she'd worn was modest, but the moment his hand touched the top of her growing breasts, he wanted more. At his touch there, Catelyn gasped sharply and pushed up against him, as if literally shocked by his indecent touch. All the blood in his head seemed to rush south, making him feel dizzy, as he ground against her.

It wasn't enough. It wasn't nearly enough, and he wanted more. Every frustration he'd ever felt at having to hold back when it came to her, for whatever reason, came roaring back. All the nights he'd sat up and grumbled that Brandon Stark didn't deserve Catelyn came to him. All the moments he saw her smile and it was just them, and he wanted to do more than kiss her on the hand. They all rushed into his mind. He'd wanted her so desperately, and he hadn't even realized it. He kissed her with a passion he hadn't even known he was capable of and touched her in ways that he had dared not even think of. It felt more than good. It felt great. For this small moment, with no one around, she was his.

_Except – she isn't._

As if they both came to the same conclusion at once, Stannis pulled away from her and Catelyn put a hand on his chest to push him. Both of their eyes were wide with shock, both sucking in air heavily as if they hadn't been breathing for the past few minutes. Her lips were swollen and there were small red marks on her neck that would soon fade away. Her hair was even more a mess now and her dress had slid down to a much more improper level.

"Stannis," she practically whimpered, "I–"

"I know," he replied, a hard expression coming across his face.

With a strength that no man should be capable of possessing, Stannis rolled off of her and pulled himself up so that he was sitting in the sand next to her. She slowly sat up, fixing her dress as she did so, her cheeks flushed as red as her hair. He wanted nothing more than to kiss her again, to tear that dress off of her. Her skin had been like cream, soft under his fingertips. He'd wanted to taste all of her and lose himself in her. The feelings were somewhat startling him, even now as his body continued to ache for hers. He hadn't thought things like that ever before and it humiliated him.

_I am no better than Robert in the end,_ Stannis thought miserably.

Catelyn looked at him sadly. "I'm sorry, Stannis. I feel like I led you on and I–"

Stannis waved a hand at her. "You did nothing of the sort. I'm the one that kissed you first. I dishonored you."

"I kissed you back," Catelyn pointed out. And so she had, and it had been wonderful. He'd thought she might smack him; he hadn't expected her to respond back so enthusiastically.

Stannis pulled himself to his feet and helped Catelyn to hers. He let go of her hand as quickly as possible, afraid that if he held on for too long, he'd pull her close to him again. The taste of dates was still in his mouth. All of this only served to shame him even further and he turned away from her, facing the raging sea that mirrored his thoughts and emotions. He had to control himself; he had to control his feelings. Never once had he let them escape and run rampant before and for this very reason. The idea that he could've possibly ruined her hurt him more than he thought.

When he felt her hand on his shoulder, he nearly leapt out of his skin, and she jerked her hand back to her side. "This was a mistake. I'm sorry. It was foolish of me and stupid, and I-I don't know what came over me." He had one moment of weakness, and it involved one of his closest friends. How could he be so stupid? When he turned around, he saw the horribly pained and saddened expression on her face. It was a face that she should never have to wear, and he wanted to take it away, but he didn't know how, not without acting recklessly. All he wanted to do was touch her again. "Can we just…can we just pretend this never happened?"

"I don't know," she admitted. "Can you?"

"What's the alternative? That we never speak or see each other again?" That was something he definitely didn't want to do. It would hurt to see her, but he imagined never seeing or speaking to her again would hurt even more.

The upset look on her face suggested that Catelyn felt the same way. "Then we pretend this never happened. We never speak of this again, and we move on. If…if that's what you feel is best."

Stannis didn't want to pretend this never happened. He wanted to do this again, but he knew that was wrong. He never wanted to dishonor her like this again. Even in the face of something she couldn't control, even when she was being humiliated behind her back by her betrothed, she stood proud and honorable. She would do her duty even if it hurt, just as much as he would do his. It would hurt him, but he would watch as she went to someone else. Gods, he wanted her more than anything. He wanted to pull her into his arms and tell her it would be alright – that he would always be there for her, that he would love her if she was worried that the man she was betrothed to wouldn't – but he couldn't do it. Honor and duty be damned if it hurt them like this, but he had to follow what he knew was right and just.

"It is," Stannis said resolutely. To do otherwise would only shame them both. She bit her lip and nodded her head, her eyes cast down to their feet. "We should return to the castle, my lady. It will storm soon."

And storm it would, furiously and bitterly. Stannis would not sleep at all that night, not with the storm raging outside the castle and in his mind.


	4. The Call of the Sea

**Author's Notes:** This was truly sad to write. If GRRM wasn't cruel enough to Stannis, I just make things worse with these fics. Why can't anything good happen to Stannis? I mean seriously, why not?

**Disclaimer: **GRRM owns all of these characters and also my soul.

**Honor's Mistress  
**_The Call of the Sea_

"_There can't even be a proper funeral,"_ his words rang in her ears, _"since the sea stole their bodies, too."_

Catelyn stood awkwardly as the septon continued to speak words of sadness and loss. She didn't think he could be any worse, making a sad day even sadder. During times like these, septons should be filled with hope and speak of the silver lining in the sky, but instead he was dreary and cold. The sky matched his somber tone and words, dark and cloudy with a promise of rain. It almost always looked like that here at Storm's End, but she used to think that it was beautiful. It wasn't so beautiful anymore, not when she knew that this storm would probably drag a ship to the sea's watery depths, its occupants never to be seen again.

Everyone around her seemed to be sniffling or crying. One woman was openly weeping. Robert Baratheon, tall and handsome, stood with his arms folded across his chest, a stormy look on his face. Her father was somewhere behind her with Lysa and Edmure. The thought of her little brother, who had just turned five, immediately made her look to her left, where a woman was holding a fussy baby Renly Baratheon. He hadn't even turned one yet. The thought of never him never seeing his mother or knowing what she looked like without people telling him made Catelyn want to cry more than anything else. She was the only one of her siblings that could remember what their own mother looked like, and it pained her to know that Lysa, Edmure, Renly now would never know what a mother's love would feel like.

But it was when Catelyn looked to the right that her heart dropped into her stomach.

Stannis Baratheon stood next to her, stiff as a corpse. At four and ten, he looked more like a man grown than ever before, which she thought terribly unfair. Not a single emotion could be spotted on his face, emotionless and stony as he always was. This was somehow worse though. She'd never seen him look so blank. His blue eyes, which were normally filled with some sort of exasperated look, were now completely void of anything. They were flat. (They were _dead_.) She wasn't even sure if he was seeing anything, or if he was merely staring forward. Part of her wondered what he was thinking, if he was thinking anything at all or if he had cleared his mind out too, but another part of her never wanted to know.

The moment her father's party had reached Storm's End for the funeral of Steffon and Cassandra Baratheon, Catelyn had searched out the middle Baratheon son. Her father hadn't even stopped to question or call out for her when she had road ahead of them the moment the castle was close enough. She'd raced to the stables, nearly falling off the horse in her haste to get off, and ran up to the castle; no one had bothered to ask what she was doing as ran through the castle, not stopping until she reached Stannis' bedroom, out of breath and red-faced. She had to see him. Of course she knew that he hadn't been on the ship that his parents had been on, but she'd wanted to make sure he was still here. The moment he'd opened the door, somewhat confused about who was knocking, she'd thrown her arms around his neck. It had taken him a moment to get his bearings, but he'd eventually hugged her back, if not a bit tentatively. It was the first time they had ever hugged.

Now he was completely out of reach though. Even as she gazed at him, she was sure that he couldn't even tell that she was watching him, gauging him for some sort of reaction. She knew he wouldn't give her one though. Much like the stone walls that guarded Storm's End, Stannis would let nothing in or out that he didn't want to be seen by anyone else.

When Catelyn realized the funeral was coming to an end, the words from her mother's funeral coming back to her in whispers, she felt like a part of her too had been taken away by the sea. She had met Stannis' parents only a few times, back when her father had been trying to find a good match for her, and they had been good people. Neither one of them had been nearly as serious as Stannis was, which had always made her wonder how he came to be so. It was as if he had known all along that he would suffer hardships and had to prepare himself for them.

Without warning, when the funeral was minutes away from ending, Catelyn searched blindly and grasped Stannis' hand, and he stiffened even more. Slowly but surely, his body began to relax, more than it had been the entire funeral. Neither one of them looked at each other though. They didn't have to. They merely continued to look straight ahead as the septon finished. In Tully tradition, the body of a loved one was put in a little boat and pushed along the river, where a son would shoot a flaming arrow into the sail, so that their bodies could rest in the riverbed. There were no bodies to be pushed though for the Baratheons. They simply had nothing left to speak of their parents. She could not even wonder what the tradition for Baratheons was nor did she ever want to know.

All either of them could do was hold on tightly to each other's hands, keeping each other strapped to the ground, as everything went to hell around them.

As soon as the septon finished, Robert stormed away from everyone. Maester Cressen called out after him, but Robert paid him no heed, furiously pushing his way through the crowd until he disappeared from sight in the castle. She had no doubt that he would be going to the armory and then the courtyard, to beat out his grief, as if that could help. The woman to her left looked sadly down at Renly, who had started to cry, and then walked for the castle. Everyone around them was beginning to disperse. She knew that she should search for her own family, but she could not bear to leave Stannis alone. No one had stopped to offer their condolences to him. Instead he just stood there, still staring blankly ahead, breathing so lightly that she couldn't see his chest move.

Finally, Catelyn had enough of it. She tugged on his hand, and he looked up at her. There was nothing in those blue eyes, and her heart panged painfully. "C'mon, let's get out of here," she told him. He just nodded his head mutely and followed as she led him out of the crowd. Perhaps she should have let go of his hand – perhaps it wasn't proper for her to hold the hand of a boy she was not betrothed to – but for this one day, she didn't care. Stannis was her friend, and he meant more to her than any stupid betrothal at the moment. Her father would understand.

He'd never been a people person to begin with and outward showing of emotions made him feel awkward, but everything was so much worse today. Even she was finding it difficult to keep her emotions under wraps, but she did it for him. Catelyn had only meant to pull him away from the crowd and get him away from everyone – she knew that he wouldn't want to be around people – but once they were a good distance away, he took the lead. Their hands never parted, even then, as he began to walk through the castle and she followed without question. When they came to a stop, they were outside again, on a balcony overlooking the dark and warring sea.

For a while, neither of them said anything. Stannis gazed at the sea silently, his lips pressed together in a thin line. His whole body had tensed again and he was squeezing her hand tightly, but she didn't mind. She was just glad he hadn't tried to pull away.

Finally, Stannis bowed his head and took a deep shuddering breath. "Robert is lord of Storm's End now," he said in a tight voice. She bit her lip and nodded her head, unsure of what to say. "It's pointless though. I've been taking care of the castle and the duties while our parents were at sea and Robert was in the Vale. And now this and– there's Renly to take care of and I just–" He let go of her hand so that he could rub his face and huff into his hands. Still, she said nothing. He threw his hands up and let out a mirthless laugh. "I don't know what to do."

Catelyn laid a tentative hand on his arm. "This does not have to be your burden alone, Stannis. You have people that will help you and that care about you."

Stannis snorted. "Like who?"

"Like me," she answered coolly, pulling her hand away from him. His words stung, but she knew that he was only upset. Stannis could say a lot of things that people thought were cold, even cruel, but she'd always been able to see through them. He glanced at her, a miserable look on his already tired face. "And then there's Maester Cressen. He loves you all."

Again, silence overcame them. Stannis looked back out to the sea and Catelyn followed suit. It was truly beautiful. She'd always admired the way the waves crashed against the water and beat against the cliffs. The water was much darker here than the rivers and the moat that surrounded Riverrun; some spots even looked black. There were all sorts of caverns that they'd explored when they were younger, to the chagrin of their parents, with Robert leading them bravely and Lysa trying to follow when she was told that she could not. She loved the sea, but not nearly as much as Stannis loved it. He'd told her of how he was going to own a fleet of ships and sail all around Westeros and how he was going to be the Master of Ships in the small council at King's Landing.

She wondered if he would still be able to love the sea that stole his parents from him.

"I wish…" He furrowed his brow, and she looked over to him quickly. Stannis Baratheon did not wish for things. He thought wishing was a folly and only meant for fools. "I wish you could stay here." Catelyn didn't know why his quiet, pained voice saying those words finally made her tear up, but they did, and she took his hand in hers again. He bit his lip, his face screwed up in an attempt to keep himself together, and he looked down at the ground. "I feel utterly lost, Catelyn. I don't know what I'm going to do, and all I can think is that I don't want to do this, not alone. I might have people to help me, but I _am_ alone. I always have been."

"No, no, you aren't–"

"I am though," Stannis cut in firmly. She twisted her mouth into a frown, but said nothing. "Robert's not going to do a damn thing to help out with Renly, and I don't want him raised by strangers because I'm too weak or afraid to do anything about it. And Maester Cressen can do a lot of things, but this castle will not run on its own." He was too young for this – much too young. There was never a good age to lose a parent, but he had lost both in the blink of an eye. He gulped down a rock that seemed to be sitting in his throat. "I didn't even say goodbye to them. They wrote to me, but I…I was mad at them and I didn't respond, and I… I can't even remember why I was mad at them in the first damn place."

"Does it matter? They knew you loved them–"

"Of course it matters!" Stannis suddenly exploded, jerking his hand out of hers and wheeling on her. She took a step back, surprised by his outburst, her eyes widening. He must've realized that he'd frightened her because he immediately shrunk in on himself again and looked away. "I'm sorry; I didn't mean to–" He let out some air and rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm glad you're here. I don't know what I'd do if you weren't. Probably bunch someone in the face or wallow in my chambers until everyone left. I wasn't even going to go to the funeral. I thought why bother going when we couldn't even give them a proper goodbye."

Catelyn remembered how her own mother had died, lying in bed, Edmure's tiny, little hand grasping onto her finger. Edmure's birth had been difficult, but her lady mother had survived it. A week later though, she succumbed to a fever and a sickness took her. She'd looked so weak and pathetic in that bed. Lysa was too young to remember sitting on the bed with her, but Catelyn would never be able to forget the way her mother's hand had slipped out of her father's and hung limply off the bed, her fingertips grazing the floor. She had said her goodbyes, though she didn't know if they meant anything at all.

"We should go to the hall and get something to eat. They'll be wondering where you are." All she wanted to do was pull him into her arms again. She wanted him to rest his head against her shoulder and cry, though she knew he never would. She wanted to hug him and let him know that he wasn't alone, no matter what he thought, and that she would always be there for him, even when she was in Riverrun. She wanted to tell him that she'd travel to the Stormlands every month if need be to make sure he was alright, though she knew that would never be allowed. She wanted him to wrap his arms around her and hold her as well, so that he'd be able to know that he too was still alive and there was so much left for him in the world.

But she did none of that. He simply nodded his head and they walked back into the castle.


	5. The Light of the Tunnel

**Author's Notes:** There's not much left to this fic. Technically, the next chapter is the last one of this fic and then I'm going to start a sequel, but a few people want one more after the last, so I may cave.

**Disclaimer: **GRRM owns all of these characters and also my soul.

**Honor's Mistress  
**_The Light of the Tunnel_

"If you don't hurry up, Stannis, the tide is going to swallow you whole. Wouldn't that be funny?"

Stannis shot his older brother Robert a glare, but said nothing. Robert always teased him and tried to irritate him – that was a fact of life that Stannis had known as far as he could remember – but his older brother became especially worse whenever Catelyn was around. Just the sight of the girl made Robert completely unbearable. Stannis didn't know if it was out of frustration or just who he was that made Robert this way, but it was beginning to grate on his nerves. He could take it when it was just them, but he loathed being the center of all of Robert's jokes whenever other people were around. It was humiliating, even more so because he knew that Robert was doing it on purpose.

"I doubt the tide would swallow you whole," Catelyn pointed out as she walked up next to him. "You're a strong swimmer."

Stannis tried not to smile at the way Robert frowned, but it was difficult not to do so. With her sweet smile, polite demeanor, and subtle words, Catelyn was the opposite of Robert. She was a better fit for a friend for Stannis, which seemed to confuse his older brother. Most girls, lowborn and highborn, always gravitated towards Robert. He was handsome, charming, confident, and loud. He was also the heir to Storm's End. By all rights, she should have been cozying up to him – she should have been trying to please and make a good impression on him – and yet she did nothing of the sort. Stannis had no doubt that she was _supposed_ to do that. Catelyn Tully was a girl of ten and one; it would only be a matter of years before she was betrothed to someone.

The thought of Catelyn being betrothed to someone gave Stannis a funny feeling in his gut. He couldn't be sure what it was, but decided that he didn't want to let his thoughts linger on it.

"C'mon, Stannis, you're slowing us down!" Robert shouted from inside the cave.

"I'm coming!" Stannis responded, hurrying in after the other three children.

Lord Hoster Tully had come to Storm's End to speak with their lord father, Steffon Baratheon, about something or another. He had made three visits with the past few months, more than usual. No one really thought anything of it, except for Stannis. It had to concern Catelyn and Robert, but he tried not to think about it much. As usual with his visits, he brought his oldest daughter, Catelyn, but this time his youngest daughter, Lysa, had also come with them. Catelyn had tried to convince Lysa to stay behind at the castle, but the young girl of nine had refused and thrown a fit. Catelyn couldn't just leave her little sister like that, so she'd allowed the girl to come. Robert had rolled his eyes, but let the girl tail him constantly.

"_That one will be yours,"_ Robert had told him in a low voice, a smug grin on his face. Stannis had just pushed him away and waved to Catelyn as she walked up to him.

Now that their fathers were talking to one another, it gave the children time to play with one another. Robert had said that he could take Catelyn to the caves by the sea near the castle. She'd said that would be fun, but had first asked Stannis if that was what he wanted to do. Robert had seemed somewhat flustered that Catelyn always turned to Stannis to seek his approval before doing anything. Once they'd decided to explore the caves, Lysa had demanded to go too. She was young, but feisty and headstrong. Apparently, she wasn't used to being alone, since they had a younger brother and also a ward, Petyr Baelish, back at Riverrun. Stannis hadn't liked the idea of the young girl following them around at first, but now that he was watching her tug at Robert's sleeve and asking him questions every few minutes, he felt something that felt a lot like glee bubbling in his chest.

"Are there monsters in the caves?" Lysa asked.

"Oh yes," Robert responded, sounding somewhat annoyed. "Lots of them. They like to eat fish and little girls too. You should probably go running along back to the castle."

"Then Cat has to go back too!" Lysa proclaimed, shooting her older sister a distressed look.

Catelyn sighed as she walked up to her sister. She smoothed the younger girl's hair down and shot Robert a quick glare. "Robert is being silly. There are no monsters in these caves; and even if there were, both Stannis and Robert are here to protect us." _Not to scare little girls,_ were the unspoken words that Stannis could see in the look she was giving Robert now. His older brother had enough decency to look a bit sheepish as he turned away and began to stalk deeper into the caves. Catelyn glanced back to Stannis. "Did you bring any torches? It looks awfully dark. We could get lost."

Before Stannis could explain to her that maneuvering your way through the caves in the dark was part of the fun and game, Robert boomed, "We'll be fine!" His voice echoed throughout the cave, the word "fine" repeating itself over and over again in an eerie manner.

"Robert is right," Stannis told her as Lysa ran to catch up with Robert. "We've explored these caves hundreds of times, Robert more so than I."

The two of them stood in the opening of the cave for a moment. Catelyn gazed back towards where her sister and his brother were and then back to Stannis. "Is there more than just one tunnel in the cave?" she asked him.

"No, there are lots of different tunnels, some dead ends, some merging with others, some that have the same ending."

Catelyn bit her lip. "How about we go a different way?" Stannis furrowed his brow at her words, so she continued, "We could pick a way that makes it so we meet up with them later. It'd give Robert a bit of a scare. That would be amusing, wouldn't it?"

Stannis thought about it for a minute. It would feel good to get away from Robert. His older brother would be furious about being left with the younger Tully girl and might rage on him later, but it would feel truly nice to just be alone with Catelyn. He hated the way Robert would butt into their time together and demand to be a part of it. But Robert was the heir to Storm's End and Catelyn Tully was the oldest daughter, so they should have been spending time together instead of Cat and Stannis.

"We'll go this way then," Stannis said, walking into a tunnel on the left instead of the one of the right that Robert and Lysa had walked into. Catelyn giggled and followed him hastily.

For the first ten minutes or so, they walked together in silence. While Stannis had been in this cave many times before, Catelyn had not and she spent much of the time admiring it. He'd warned her to not touch any of the walls, and so her hand would waver just above each stone as she looked on in amazement. "This is wonderful," she whispered, her eyes shining in the dim light. It wouldn't be long before they were enveloped in complete darkness, but for now, they skirted the edges of the cave, alongside the coast. The sea smacked against the cliffs and sprayed against their ankles. This route led to the same tunnel that Robert and Lysa were in, but it gave way to darkness about halfway through. It didn't bother Stannis though. He'd travelled through these caves many times before with Robert.

Without meaning to, the words rolled out of Stannis' mouth before he could stop himself: "Is your father going to betroth you to Robert?"

Catelyn turned to look at him questioningly, her blue eyes bright with both wonder and confusion. "I don't know," she finally said.

"Has he said anything to you though?" Stannis pressed, unable to help himself. He had to know. He wanted her to say no, so he could tell Robert and wipe that smug smirk off his face for good, but he was terrified that she would say yes. What would he do then? Catelyn was his best friend. He didn't want her to be stuck with his pig of an older brother. Robert may have only been ten and two, but Stannis knew what kind of man Robert was going to grow up to be. He could already see that dim hunger in his eyes when he looked upon another girl – when he looked upon Cat.

Catelyn chewed on her lip. "He has…mentioned something along the lines of it, yes."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means," Catelyn began slowly, "it means that he's giving me a choice, at least a small one. I cannot tell him 'no,' per say, if he decides on a betrothal between your brother and I, but I can object to it, and he'd listen to why I objected."

"But he could choose to ignore it?"

"Yes," Catelyn told him, "yes, he can. He's the Lord of Riverrun, and I am his daughter. He can marry me to anyone he decides is best."

Stannis scowled. "Robert is not the best for you. He's not the best for _anyone_."

Catelyn smiled a bit sadly. "You say that now, but he's only ten and two. He may grow up to be a fine man."

"I doubt it." Stannis looked away from her and continued to walk further into the dark tunnel away from the sea now. She had no choice but to follow him, even if he was moody now. They walked in awkward silence until finally Stannis said, "He doesn't deserve you. He won't treat you proper; and you're too good for him."

"I'm too good for him?" There was laughter and incredulity in her voice, but something else as well – something that sounded like…like she was thanking him, like she was relieved that he was saying these things. Maybe he was just making that up in his head though. He didn't want her to want to be betrothed to Robert. "I'm just the daughter of the Lord of Riverrun; meanwhile, he's the heir to Storm's End. Perhaps _I _am the one that is not good enough for _him_."

Stannis stopped so abruptly she nearly bumped into him and whipped around on his heels. "Don't say that. You're the best person I know."

"What about your parents?"

"They don't count. They're my parents."

Catelyn just stared at him for a moment before saying, "I don't know why you're so bothered to begin with. If I'm betrothed to Robert, then I'll be able to come to Storm's End much often. Maybe I'll even get to stay here for a while; and we'll be able to do all sorts of things." But would they, really? She would have to do all those things with Robert, not Stannis. It wouldn't be right for her to always be with her future good brother. Still, the idea of her being at Storm's End much more often was pleasing. "What does it matter to you if I am to marry Robert?"

Hearing the question spoken out loud made Stannis feel uncomfortable. They had only been friends for two years and he had known many children his age for longer than her, but she was his closest friend. He looked forward to the days when she came to Storm's End, even if it was just for a week. Robert once complained that Stannis had used up all the ink writing to Catelyn. Why did he not want her to marry Robert?

_Because she's my best friend. She's mine, not Robert's. He has everything and he'll always have everything and he takes everything that is supposed to be mine. He can't take her too._

That cold fact – that hard, terrible truth – was difficult for Stannis to swallow, but he knew it was true. It was selfish and full of pride and he never wanted to say it out loud. He couldn't tell Catelyn that. It made him sound petty. She wasn't anyone's. Catelyn Tully was owned by no boy or man. She was far more free-spirited than he could ever be, even behind all of her courtesies and curtseys and smiles and subtle words. But she had chosen to be his friend and to be closer to him than to Robert. She'd chosen the younger brother when all everyone did was look to the older one. Robert was hard not to look at and even harder to ignore while it was easy to pass right over Stannis. Catelyn had not done that. From the moment they'd first met, they had been friends, as strange as it was.

Stannis could tell Catelyn none of these things though, so all he did was snap, "It doesn't matter to me," before stomping off into the dark tunnel.

It wasn't long before the tunnel turned completely black. In a matter of minutes, this tunnel would merge with the one that Robert was in and there would be light, but for just a few minutes, they were enveloped by the darkness. Stannis was so angry that he didn't even think to wait for Catelyn, who had no idea where they were going. All of a sudden, Stannis realized that he didn't hear anyone's footsteps but his own and he stopped. He turned around, but could see absolutely nothing. Panic seized his chest.

"Catelyn?" There was no answer. "Cat!"

Her name echoed throughout the cavern, but there was still no response. Stannis ran back where he came, knowing that he'd turned himself around, and continued to call out her name. _I've lost her,_ he kept thinking, feeling as if he might cry or scream. He'd lost her, and there would be no end to the trouble he was in. She could hurt herself somehow or maybe she was scared. _I've lost her._ Just as he would lose her the day she was betrothed. Just as he would lose her the day she was married off to someone like she meant nothing. He shouldn't have snapped at her. She was being practical and he was the one being idiotic and selfish. He wasn't the one whose hand would be tossed into a marriage without his consent. She would be. He would have something of a choice while she did not. _I'm going to lose her._

Without warning, Stannis bumped into something soft that made a loud gasp. He grunted as he stumbled backwards into the wall of the cave.

"Is that you, Stannis?" Catelyn's voice rang out timidly.

Stannis stood back up, rubbing the back of his head. "Yeah, it's me, Cat." He felt out with his hand until his fingers touched fabric again. Blindly, he waved his hand about until he felt her fingers and he grasped hold of her hand. "I thought I lost you and your father was going to have my head."

"You ran off and left me, and I couldn't find you." Her voice sounded more hurt than accusing, as if she hadn't expected him to do anything of the sort. It only made him feel even worse and his stomach clenched.

"I was being thick; I'm sorry," Stannis told her. "C'mon, this way. If we hurry, we'll still be able to beat Robert and Lysa to the end of the tunnel."

And so Stannis led the way through the pitch black tunnel. Never once did he let go of her hand, afraid that he would lose her once more. She held onto his hand tightly. They didn't speak the entire time. Normally, she was headstrong enough to do things on her own, but just this once, she allowed Stannis to lead the way, completely trusting him. It felt good to know that she trusted him enough to do this, even though he'd just snapped at her and had even left her behind. _Perhaps I don't deserve her either,_ a tiny voice whispered in his mind.

"Look; light!" Catelyn gasped. He could feel her body tug against his as she raised her other arm to point. Soon, both of them were running towards the light, until they were standing on the beach again and the wind and sea was spraying in their hair. Catelyn let out an excited shout before letting go of his hand and running towards the sea. She giddily ran back to him, the tide on her heels. "We beat them! I bet Robert will be so put out."

She could not have been more right. A few minutes later, Robert came out from another tunnel, Lysa trailing behind him. He wore a deep scowl on his face, one that Stannis normally wore. Meanwhile, Lysa was chattering about something and could not seem to stop. "Where the hell were you two?" he demanded heatedly as he stormed up to the two of them.

"We took another route," Stannis pointed out.

"Stupid, you shouldn't have done that! At least not without telling me. You can't do things like that without telling me! I'm the oldest and the leader!" Robert looked ready to strike, but Stannis stood his ground. "And you left this one with me! Catelyn was supposed to be with me."

"Do you not like my sister?" Catelyn asked in a curious voice. She had leaned down to smooth her sister's hair and hush the younger girl. Catelyn gave Robert a cool gaze, one that was sure to chill his bones. Robert screwed up his mouth into a frown before stomping away from them. She shot Stannis a quick look and then winked at him. She stood up, letting Lysa run towards the sea and leaving the two of them alone once again. Looking at the sea and at Robert throwing stones in the water and Lysa kicking the waves, Catelyn suddenly said, "I don't want to marry Robert either."

She sounded sad, but Stannis felt happiness and relief bloom in his chest.


	6. The Start of Impossibility (Part I)

**Author's Notes:** One more chapter and this will be complete!

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing.

**Honor's Mistress  
**_the start of impossibility (part i)_

"I don't… I don't think it's supposed to be this _tight_."

"Tight? The boy doesn't even know when clothes fit him. We've got a lot of work cut out for us." Lord Renly Baratheon leaned in closer. "If you want to see some clothes that are tight, just look at your father."

Gendry looked around the room at the three men standing before him. Two were lords and one was a king – all three of them were apparently his new family that he didn't really know what to make of. One day he'd just been an orphan working as a blacksmith's apprentice, hoping to make the best of what little life he had. The next day, he'd been informed just who his deadbeat father was. And somehow or another, he'd managed to find himself being legitimized, with a new name and House and everything.

It was all very complicated and confusing; and he did his best to not think about it, lest he wanted his head to hurt some more.

Well, Gendry tried not to do as Lord Renly muttered under his breath, but Gendry couldn't help but look at his father. Robert Baratheon, the king, was quite fat, but apparently he'd looked nearly identical to Gendry at his age. All that did was make Gendry worry that he was going to end up fat when he got older, but neither Stannis Baratheon nor Lord Renly were fat, so he supposed he'd just have to be careful. He dropped his eyes to the ground, unable to keep from the habit he'd acquired as a child when around highborns. _You're a highborn now too, stupid,_ he thought. Only, despite the clothes they gave him and the fact that he lived in the Red Keep now, he didn't feel like a highborn. He still felt like a bastard.

He still felt like just himself – just Gendry, not Gendry Baratheon or even Gendry Waters.

"I look stupid," Gendry finally settled on as he caught sight of his reflection again. Lord Renly had insisted on buying him a new outfit for the arrival of Lord Stark and his daughters. He'd hated the idea of it, but hadn't even bothered to protest. At least this time Renly had gone on his own. The first time, Gendry had gone with him, in order to get his measurements done, and it had been a nightmare. He never wanted to go shopping with his Uncle Renly or Ser Loras Tyrell ever again. Not only had he felt out of place in a shop filled with clothes that cost more than he'd made his entire life, but he'd felt like a third wheel with his uncle and his uncle's friend.

Still, Renly laughed, all good-natured and cheerful. That much could be said. He was the nicest of the whole lot and did his best to make sure that Gendry was at least somewhat comfortable with everything but clothing. "You don't look stupid. You look _handsome_. All the girls will be fawning over you." There was a strange look about the smirk on his face. "Maybe even some of the boys too."

Gendry flushed a color that looked painfully similar to Lannister crimson.

"Nearly five and ten and still blushing at the thought of a romp in the sack!" King Robert guffawed deeply and pat Lord Stannis on the back, a little harder than was necessary. Stannis looked quite affronted and glowered at his older brother. "Sure this one isn't yours?"

"You're the only one with bastards," Stannis replied through gritted teeth. He always seemed to speak like that. When Gendry had first met Lord Stannis, it had been in Tobho Mott's armory shop, back when Gendry had still just been a bastard. Stannis had been the first one to recognize who Gendry was, though it had been the late Lord Jon Arryn that had told the king about his bastard son. Gendry could still remember the way Stannis has ground his teeth upon first looking at him.

Robert placed his hands on Gendry's shoulder. "He's not a bastard anymore, Stannis," the king pointed out in a low, protective grumble. It was strange thinking that the king might feel protective of him when no one had ever protected him before. He'd only had himself after his mother's death. Though Gendry was tall for his age, he was still not as tall as his father. He had a few years left to grow, of course, so maybe then, he'd be just as tall. Stannis and Renly were tall as well. It was a Baratheon feature apparently, along with black hair and blue eyes. He always felt strong and tall, older than his age, when around other kids, but when he was with these men, he felt much like a child. These were all men grown, though Renly only had about seven years on him. Gendry was still a boy, a king's boy.

Gendry cleared his throat, causing Robert to step to the side slightly, and cast them a nervous glance. "Maybe, uh, maybe it isn't proper of me to, you know…to be at the welcoming feast when Lord Stark and his van arrive…" All three Baratheon brothers looked at him, which only made him feel even more nervous. He tugged at his collar, feeling hot under the stuffy material. "I mean, I'm not…you know, I'm not exactly proper and…well-mannered and all that sort."

Robert snorted, which wasn't proper or well-mannered at all, but he was the king, so he could do whatever he liked. "Then I hear you'll get on well with Ned's youngest daughter. Apparently she's a wild one."

Renly gave him a complacent smile. "You're more well-mannered than most people, Gendry. Besides, it'll be another week before they arrive, plenty of time to review lessons on etiquette and dancing and such." Oh, great, there would be dancing. That didn't make him feel any better in the least bit, even with a week of practicing. He'd rather be in the armory, beating a hammer against a burning sword, than prancing around in a room. He'd rather be wearing that old leather apron and his old dirty clothes than these stuffy clothes. His father didn't look too pleased to be in them either, but that was probably because he preferred dallying about naked with women.

"It would seem a slight to House Stark if one of the princes decided to not make an appearance," Stannis added in a no-nonsense tone. He didn't look too pleased with the idea of Gendry being at the feast either. Well, it was either that or he just didn't want to be at the feast. His father said that Stannis wasn't one for parties or feasts or anything remotely fun – that all he did was grumble, make pessimistic comments, and look down on fun. Gendry was more than certain that he didn't care for the type of fun that his father did, but he said nothing on the matter and just smiled and nodded his head whenever things like that were brought up.

"The Queen won't be happy about it," Gendry sighed, deflating on the spot.

Then again, the Queen wasn't happy about _anything_ when it came to Gendry or even her husband period. Whenever he caught sight of her looking at him, it was only with pure venom in her green eyes, as if she hoped to poison and kill him on the spot with just a glare. It made him uncomfortable, to say the least, but he didn't want to say anything bad about the Queen, so he kept it to himself and didn't tell his father or anyone. One of the biggest problems he'd come across since being pulled into this family was that he never felt like he could trust anyone. Even when he'd lived on the streets as an orphan, he'd had friends that he could tell secrets to, even if he hadn't really had any big secrets. In the Red Keep, Lord Varys the Spider seemed to know everyone's secrets, whether they liked it or not; and so Gendry thought it best to just not speak up at all. If he didn't say anything, then how could anyone ever know?

"Bugger on Cersei," Robert dismissed gruffly. "You're a Baratheon. Everyone can see that plain as day. It wouldn't have been right to just waste you on the streets in that little armory shop."

_What about all your other bastards?_ Gendry couldn't help but think. _What's so special about me and not them? Why am I a Baratheon and why aren't they?_

Those were thoughts that Gendry kept to himself. It sounded terrible, but every night since he'd laid in that plush bed and not the cot in the back of the armory, he'd had to remind himself of how lucky he was. He wasn't just an orphan boy anymore. He may not have had a mother, not really, but he had a father now. He had a home. He was a Baratheon. He could have anything or anyone he wanted. He would never want for anything, never be cold, never go hungry ever again. He was a _prince_. That was a far-cry from a lowly blacksmith, even if he had been talented. And still, there were times when he longed for that simple peasant life. He longed for privacy, for simplicity, for the boring every day nothings that he couldn't have now. The only time he was truly alone was when he went to the privy and even then he felt smothered.

Everyone wanted to talk to him. Everyone wanted to help him. Everyone wanted to meet this new Baratheon boy.

But they didn't really want to – they just acted like they did because it was expected of them and because he was royalty. The people here weren't really his friends. The only things that were real were his family. Robert was his father and Renly and Stannis were his uncles. He had a little cousin named Shireen by Stannis as well, though they hadn't met yet. The only other brother he knew about was Edric Storm, because he'd been acknowledged, but not even Edric, who was of noble birth, had been actually legitimized yet. Gendry had been stupid enough to ask the king about Edric; and the king had just given him a smile that suggested he thought Gendry was being thick and just said, _"All in good time, my boy, all in good time." _But why had it been Gendry's time and not Edric's? Gendry thought for sure that Edric would have made a better prince than him, even if he was younger.

"It'll be fun, you'll see," his father told him, all confidence. Robert Baratheon was the type of man that loved having fun, even if it meant possibly killing someone. That was what Stannis had grumbled about at least. The king ruffled Gendry's hair, making it look normal. Gendry couldn't remember ever combing his hair before, but now he had to do it every day, and he thought it looked a bit strange. Renly had even commented that he might grow it out, though Gendry preferred to keep it short like Stannis. Well, except he had more hair than Stannis, who was already going bald.

Despite his doubts, Gendry forced a little grin onto his face. "Fun, yeah. I've never met a Northerner."

"Ned will like you," Robert told him, which was at least a little bit reassuring. Eddard Stark was the Warden of the North and Lord of Winterfell. Gendry was rather hopeful that the man, his father's best friend who had helped win the Iron Throne, wouldn't dislike him. "The only thing that could possibly upset him is if you try to bed one of his girls, I wager."

Gendry's grin fell quickly. "I would never." He glanced at Renly, who wore an amused look, and Stannis, who looked as if he didn't believe Gendry. All Gendry could do was shake his head quickly. "I wouldn't dare dishonor any lady."

His father winked at him. "Then we'll make sure you don't mix beds with a lady then, eh?"

Gendry could have told the king that he didn't want a whore, but his words would've fallen on deaf ears. King Robert was set on making a man out of Gendry as soon as possible. Every time it was brought up, he would go silent and just wait for the moment to pass. The only problem was that it was brought up more often than not, especially when the king was drinking. _"Like father, like son,"_ he'd laugh, and Gendry would laugh weakly in return and then stare at his food as hard as possible. It wasn't that he didn't like girls. It was just that, well, he didn't really know how to deal with them. He had been taught to never speak to highborn girls and so he'd spent most of his time staring at the ground when ladies came about. Prostitutes just made him uncomfortable. He thought it was important that a girl actually want it, and not just for coin. Try telling King Robert Baratheon that though. He was a gift to women and so his son would be as well.

_I'm going to end up as sour as Lord Stannis at this rate,_ Gendry thought with an inward sigh.

"Come on, let's leave the boy be," Renly said, as if sensing the sullenness that had overcome Gendry. He always seemed to be easygoing, even when everyone else wasn't. He was still young though, only one and twenty, so he made all the jokes he could while Stannis called him childish. No one dared call the king immature though. "You're going to make him blush worse than a maid." At this point, Gendry didn't even try protesting the fact that he'd never been with a woman. He just accepted defeat. "We've got a lot of preparations and decisions to make before the Starks arrive."

"You mean _you two_ have a lot of decisions to make," Robert corrected, picking up a goblet of wine. His squire, Lancel Lannister, had made sure to fill it up with a pitcher to spare before the king had shooed him out of the room. There had been thought that Gendry might take Lancel's place as Robert's squire, but Gendry had somehow managed to convince them that that wouldn't be right since he was Robert's son. That and he didn't know a thing or two about swordfighting, being a knight, or any of that stuff. It had fallen upon Stannis to teach Gendry or, well, Robert had made it fall upon Stannis at least. "I've got important things to do."

Stannis rolled his eyes. "I do not think whores count as important things to do, Robert."

"So says the man that lies with his wife only once a year on a full moon," Robert replied, laughing heartily before finishing his glass of wine.

Lord Stannis looked like he wanted to say something terribly rude, but instead he just grinded his teeth and looked back at Gendry with such a heated glare that it startled the younger boy. "Your lesson will be at five sharp. Do not be late."

"Yes, m'lor– I mean, yes, my lord." It took everything in Gendry to remember himself and speak properly. He'd gone around calling everyone "m'lord" his first week so much that Queen Cersei had made a quip that there was a new Beggar Prince. King Robert had smacked her for that, since it apparently had something to do with the Targaryens. And if there was one thing the king hated more than small council meetings, it was Targaryens. Gendry learned quick from the light bruise on the Queen's face to never mention them. He hadn't thought it proper of his father to do that, but no one said anything, and so he hadn't either. Still, it was hard to remember to say "my lord" and not "m'lord" like a lowborn.

Stannis gave him one more passing look before storming out of the room. Gendry wasn't quite sure why Stannis seemed so irritated by him – maybe it was because he was still a bastard in Lord Stannis' eyes – but the man never treated him differently from anyone else, which Gendry liked. Stannis treated highborns and lowborns alike in that they all seemed to aggravate him.

Renly smiled pleasantly. "I'll see you at supper, Gendry. Don't let Stannis bother you too much. You'll find out soon enough that he's always in a foul mood and nothing solves it, especially not family time. We'll go do something fun tomorrow that doesn't have to do with getting beat with a stick or whoring about, I promise."

As long as it wasn't shopping again or dealing with lords and ladies of the court, Gendry would be happy with anything. That was what Renly was helping him with. Gendry nodded his head; and Lord Renly left the room, so that only Gendry and King Robert remained. It was somewhat startling at how much Gendry looked like his father. Everyone always commented on how Gendry was the spitting image of Robert Baratheon at his age and how remarkable it was. There was not a hint of his mother in him, that blonde woman that sang to him when he was sick and said that his father would beat him when he was bad. Gendry wouldn't dare do anything to upset the king though – or at least he'd do his damned best not to. It was hard to tell with someone when they were in their cups.

With one hand holding a cup of wine, Robert put his free hand back on Gendry's shoulder. "You're going to make a fine Baratheon, a true one. I hate to say it, but I feel like you're more my son than Joffrey or Tommen. They look nothing like me and act nothing like me." Gendry thought that was rather unfair of the king to say. From what he'd seen, Prince Joffrey was rather keen on pleasing his father and tried acting like him whenever he could. They both had a very proud streak in them – and a vicious one as well – but Gendry said nothing and just looked at his father. "Things can get sticky when bastards are legitimized, but I know I made the right decision with you."

"Thank you, Your Grace," Gendry said humbly, hoping against hope that he sounded earnest.


End file.
